Pride, Mates, and Past Mistakes

The Drama of a Simple Piece of Paper

*Cody*

“Did I ever mention how much I hate Mondays?” Nolan muttered to me as we entered the kitchen, half dead from our lack of sleep.

But if he thought he hadn’t slept, then it didn’t even come near what I was going through.

For the past three days -basically ever since I’d rejected Sierra - the pain in my chest was unimaginable. It was like somebody had lassoed my heart with a spiked chain and was trying to yank it out of my body. And don’t even get me started on this suffocating feeling I kept feeling. Last night, it had gotten worse. It took all the alpha strength I had within me from getting up and sprinting to Sierra’s bedroom and begging for her forgiveness. Since I had barley been able to sleep, what with the stupid yanking in my chest, I’d just stayed up all night, watching movies and listening to music.

Like that helped.

But strangely, even though last night I had the worst pain, I was able to fall asleep before 2 AM for the first time. It was weird, almost like the pain decreased. Maybe the rejection pain only lasted a few days?

But even then, with the decreased pain, I was only able to reply to Nolan’s remarks half-heartedly with grunts of approval and “Hmm” and “Mmmhmm”, not having enough energy to talk.

Alpha or not, pain was pain.

Jacob, one of the wolves in our grade, strolled into the kitchen, followed by Deanne. And boy, did she look pissed. Her hair straight and down and her bangs and makeup were applied in a pitiful attempt to cover up the bruise that covered half her left cheek—a nice gift from Sierra’s friend, Crazy Casey. It had happened on Thursday, yet the bruise had barely even begun to fade—and it was already Monday.

She stalked to the fridge and yanked it open. Garrett, Jacob’s best friend looked up at her, and his eyes widened in surprise at the bruise. Deanne glared at him, daring him to say something, anything. But he didn’t. He simply cleared his throat and quickly walked over to Jacob, mouthing “What’s up with her?”

Nolan was trying very hard to hold back a laugh, I could tell. He leaned over to me and muttered, “Is it bad that I find it very funny that Crazy Casey punched her?”

I snorted. “No,” I laughed, “I found it funny too.”

But that was the only funny thing about yesterday.

I swear to the moon, if Jai-Ann hadn’t been clutching my arm like there was no tomorrow, I would’ve run after Sierra. If there was anything, anything that I wish I could un-see in the whole world, it would’ve been yesterday. Watching her face crumple like that…suddenly the term ‘heartbreak’ became clear to me, as I sure felt it.

As soon as the commotion was over yesterday it got so bad for me that I had to pull a teen-girl move and run to the bathroom, where I threw up in one of the stalls.

And if looks could kill, I would be smothered under an eighteen wheeler with spiked, sharp, pointy wheels from the look Crazy Casey had shot me before she ran after Sierra. I don’t think I’ve received so much hate in one look before, and this was including all the girls I’d dumped.

But it’s not my fault I got stuck with her…right?

Deanne ambled up to Nolan and perched herself on his lap.

 “How bad is it? Tell me honestly.” She demanded of Nolan suddenly pointing at her bruised cheek.

“Well. It's, um..." Nolan stalled, obviously trying to come up with a nice compromise of the truth and lie, “It’s uh, fading. Hey, it kind of looks like you’re blushing. Just without the makeup and stuff.”